


It's Later

by slashmania



Series: 50 Thousand Words (from October to December!) [20]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur's picnic basket isn't magical, M/M, Picnics, Under the Rain, but Eames still believes, compaints about the weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21946342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmania/pseuds/slashmania
Summary: “‘Let’s go for a walk’ he said,” Eames began complaining to himself. “‘It looks like today is going to be really nice outside, Eames, let’s go for a picnic,’ he said,” Eames continued to bitch to himself.“I also told you that it was probably going to rain later. It’s laternow,” Arthur calmly reminded the forger.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: 50 Thousand Words (from October to December!) [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1503791
Kudos: 11





	It's Later

**Author's Note:**

> Day 20: Under the Rain  
> 1,220 words
> 
> Yes, Arthur's picnic basket is just really well stocked...and I was starving when I wrote this one, so sue me.

“‘Let’s go for a walk’ he said,” Eames began complaining to himself. “‘It looks like today is going to be really nice outside, Eames, let’s go for a picnic,’ he said,” Eames continued to bitch to himself.

“I also told you that it was probably going to rain later. It’s later _now_ ,” Arthur calmly reminded the forger.

The heavy clouds had been a strong indicator of colder weather. The darker clouds had loomed ominously over them as the set up their picnic under a tree with nice heavy branches and lots and lots of leaves. When the rain really started they were safe under the tree, still eating their lunch.

It had been a nice spread too. So nice that it had initially made them not notice when the light sprinkling of rain began.

They brought a blanket that Eames swore Arthur bought from an online store called ‘nostalgic call backs to every picnic blanket in American movies.’

“This blanket actually has a red and white checker pattern,” Eames said as if he hadn’t seen Arthur carrying the thing over the picnic basket.

“Yes, it does, Eames. I thought it looked nicer than some of the other patterns. Does it offend you horribly enough to prevent you from eating sandwiches, various types of salad, chips, and dessert?”

Eames couldn’t deny Arthur’s cooking skills. Once he’d tasted Arthur’s mother’s recipe for both potato and macaroni salad, he never questioned Arthur twice when he mentioned salad again.

To be nice Arthur would also mention or be specific when he was presenting a salad or describing it- if he meant a salad fit for a picnic he’d call it by its name, and if he actually meant a healthy salad dressed to perfection which tasted lovely even if it was a spinach or kale salad, Arthur would say so.

Arthur hadn’t brought kale or spinach salad with him today. Instead he’d brought another picnic style salad that was more Mediterranean than the others. It was a Brussels Sprouts salad that used uncooked sprouts that had been grated or otherwise processed, dressed in a balsamic vinegar, olive oil, and garlic emulsion. He thought that Eames might like it because it was light, had a real vegetable in it served in an interesting way, and was just refreshing for a picnic salad.

Arthur had brought several types of sandwiches in the basket. Each one was carefully wrapped in wax paper, and kept chilled with a gel ice pack large enough to keep everything in the basket fresh. He had turkey, roast beef, and black forest ham sandwiches; each one had Swiss cheese, hot mustard and a little mayo. Each one also had a thick wedge of tomato and a crisp leaf of lettuce, the sandwiches cut in half so they could share.

As they watched the rain intensify, Eames began to complain about it.

“I notice that you don’t look directly at me while mimicking me to complain about the situation,” Arthur commented as he worked on his own sandwich, choosing which salads that would compliment it best, then decided on taking a bit of each. He had a half a turkey, half a roast beef, some macaroni salad, some potato salad, and a bit of the Brussels Sprout salad.

Eames had opened the chips and found his favorite flavor there- he loved the Honey Barbecue ones even if Arthur loved a different flavor, he catered to Eames, maybe knowing that the weather would put a damper in his mood.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. It isn’t right to complain about the weather of all things. And I shouldn’t be trying to blame you for any of this.”

Arthur smiled and nudged Eames’s foot with his own as they sat close to each other and watched the scenery in the park as more and more people began to run out of the rain that was steadily progressing from a sprinkle to a drizzle.

“This tree will give us all the protection we’ll need, and if it gets any worse we could use the picnic blanket and one of these china plates to not get quite so wet as we run to the car.”

Eames snorted, unable to not imagine them scampering out of the cover of this tree, one of them draped in a nostalgic blanket and the other with a plate over their head.

“I should have brought that umbrella,” Eames said. “You really shouldn’t be getting stuck in the rain like this, you got so sick last time, love.”

Arthur shrugged, still enjoying his food. He took a drink of water from one of the reusable bottles he’d stashed in the picnic basket with everything else.

“I’ve been feeling better since then, really. As long as I dry off and get warm again once we get home, I think I’ll be fine.”

They continued to eat in relative silence and listened to the rain.

When it was time for dessert Arthur surprised Eames with what looked like half a pie.

“What in the hell is wrong with that picnic basket, Arthur? Did you cast a spell on it to make sure it can hold an absurd amount of food?”

“I don’t know magic,” Arthur said as he cut the pie into two large pieces and served one to each of them, neatly placing it on their plates. They had actual silverware, china plates, and napkins. Eames was getting more and more impressed with Arthur’s dedication to having a great picnic despite the rain. It also helped that Arthur made the pie that they both liked, an old fashioned apple pie with a lattice crust.

Between bites of cold pie (because hell, cold pie could be wonderful) Eames asked Arthur again if he was a wizard. “You know that you could tell me, right? I wouldn’t tell anyone else and I’d make sure that the Wizarding World was still safe from Muggles like me.”

Arthur couldn’t tell if Eames was joking anymore, but he shrugged and said, “Just because you didn’t see me make the pie doesn’t mean I waved a wand and made it appear. This picnic basket also has a special compartment to store a few plates and some silverware, so quit spouting Harry Potter theories about how I got all of this done.”

They ate dessert, watched the falling rain, and thankfully didn’t speak about Wizards again.

“I say we should definitely play rock paper scissors to decide who gets the plate and who gets the blanket for the trip to the car,” Eames said.

Arthur laughed aloud. “Oh fuck you! I cooked it all, I kept up a nice attitude through the bad moods and bad weather. I get the blanket and you get to run with a plate over your head.”

And when Arthur finally played rock paper scissors to get Eames to quite pestering him (“Are you so worried that I’m going to beat you at a simple children’s game, love?”) Arthur won that blanket fair and square and smirked at Eames as they finished their pie and got ready to leave the tree and make the race to the car in the nearby parking lot.

Despite all the little things that had gotten in the way or made it harder, the day was still nice. Rain or no rain.


End file.
